


Lost and Found

by unwhithered



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka didn't leave, Consensual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, echo never died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwhithered/pseuds/unwhithered
Summary: Ahsoka never left the Jedi Order and the war has dragged on into its fourth year. Jedi and clones alike take comfort where they can, and inevitably form attachments that both have been trained to resist. For Ahsoka and her boys, there was never any hope of resisting attachment, only resigning themselves to often being separated by their duties and unable to watch each others' backs.While Fives and Echo were away on a mission, General Skywalker and Commander Tano were kidnapped and held prisoner by the Separatists. When Ahsoka returns to the Resolute after a month in the hands of the enemy Fives and Echo have no intention of letting her out of their sight again any time soon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> While it's implied that Fives/Echo/Ahsoka have been together since Ahsoka was younger, there is no underage sex in this fic. If you ignore the fact that the clones are thirteen going on twenty six.

Echo is pacing, mumbling policy and procedures over and over again as if that will help anything. Fives hates it when his brother does that, but he doesn’t have the heart to snap at him today. If reciting the policy on how long search and rescue teams will look for the 501st’s jetiise is helping him cope...well, Fives has pulled apart and cleaned every weapon the two of them have between them at least three times in the twelve hours since they boarded the Resolute. 

He understands that their skills have been needed elsewhere for the past month. There’s a war on and ARC Troopers are in short supply. Now that they’re back on board the Resolute, though, their skills are being  _ wasted _ . They should be leading the hunt for General Skywalker and  So’ika   the Commander, but Rex has barely let them out of crew quarters since they arrived, let alone into the control room or onto the surface of the Sith-damned planet that they know their jetiise are on. General Kenobi is sure of it, and he must be right. He has to be. If only his kriffing Force powers were of any use to actually pinpoint them - no, that isn’t fair. Fives reminds himself that the General has far more right to worry for their missing leaders than a simple clone like him.

From the vid feed Fives wasted no time tapping into, Kenobi looks downright frantic. There isn’t any sound, but Fives can lip read well enough - Kenobi and High General Windu are arguing back and forth about “twenty four more hours” and “we’re wasting time and resources on a fruitless search.” When Windu says something Fives doesn’t quite catch about attachments Kenobi slumps, defeated, over the conference table. Blood turns to ice in Fives’ veins.

Pushing Echo out of the way, he slams the control panel of their door repeatedly when it doesn’t open fast enough. Every brother in the hall outside, shiny and old-timer alike, clears out of his way at the sight of what must be a truly thunderous expression. 

“Rex,” he barks, barging into his brother’s office only to find it empty. That isn’t right. He wasn’t in the control room footage, either, and he’s been coordinating the search from the ship since it expanded into several more major cities. That means eating in his tiny office or in front of the holo-grid hovering in the control room and leaving only long enough to distribute a new set of orders to the troops departing from or returning to the ship. According to the schedule Fives hacked no one is due back for at least another ten standard hours.

So where the kriff is he?

Echo catches up with Fives just in time to be left behind again as Fives marches down the hall toward the main hangar. He’s going to get answers, or he’s going to climb into a fighter and go find them his damn self. He’ll gladly accept the court martial when he returns and he knows that Echo will as well.

\---------

Ahsoka sees them before they see her. Even though every part of her body hurts and Anakin has been supporting half of her weight as they limp down the ship’s ramp, she shrugs him off and breaks into a stumbling run across the hangar floor. Fives catches sight of her just in time to brace himself, taking the brunt of her weight to the chest and automatically supporting Ahsoka has her arms wrap around his neck and her ankles lock at the small of his back. There is less of her now than there was a month ago, weight she couldn’t afford to lose stripped away while she was stuck in that hellhole, and he knows Kix is going to swear a blue streak and try to stuff a ration bar into her mouth when he checks her over. But Kix can wait.

Neither of them speak, at first. Ahsoka presses her face against Fives’ shoulder and breathes in his familiar scent of warm metal and ozone and human musk, while Echo silently slides in behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against the back of her montrals. She smells awful, and they’re making a scene in the crowded hangar, and none of them care. The Grand Army and the Jedi Council have learned to look the other way as the war drags into its fourth year. And even if they hadn’t, after a month of not knowing, of worrying that this might never happen again - the whole galaxy could be watching and the three of them would still see nothing but each other in this moment.

Nobody moves to stop them when they finally untangle minutes later and make for the exit, Ahsoka’s weight supported between the two clones. Rex simply takes Ahsoka’s place supporting Anakin and glares until he concedes to a trip to the med bay, in far more need of it than his padawan at the moment.

\--------

Crossing the ship is enough to exhaust Ahsoka. By the time their cabin door slides shut with a soft hiss she is sagging between Fives and Echo, subtle tremors running through her body. Fives is tempted to dump her into bed, filth and all, and let her sleep the horrors of the last few weeks away, if only she wouldn’t object. Instead he helps her lean against the low table and shrug out of a robe that must belong to Anakin, if the way it dwarfs her is any sign. Echo swears when he sees the mud and blood caked beneath, covering far more skin than the remaining shreds of her clothes.

“Copaani gaan?” Fives murmurs, trailing his fingers over an unbruised patch of her shoulder. 

“Yes,” she forces out, voice cracking painfully. It’s the first word she has spoken to them and the exhaustion in it makes Fives’ heart ache. “Please.”

The three of them make short work of peeling her out of her filthy clothes and bundling her into the ‘fresher. Fives and Echo shed their own clothes at the door and help her into the shower - for one, it’s luxuriously big, but three bodies gives them little space to maneuver. None of them care, not when there’s real, hot water pouring over them, unknotting some of the tension in Fives’ back and beginning to wash Ahsoka clean.

Echo braces himself against the wall, taking most of Ahsoka’s weight as Fives washes her thoroughly from head to toe. He navigates her wounds with care, thankful to find that most of them are superficial. With a liberal coating of bacta most won’t even scar. She already has enough of those, he thinks, pausing as he sinks to his knees to press a kiss at the base of her spine, right next to a scar that would have killed her if her organs were arranged the same way as a human’s. “Udesiir, cyar’ika,” he murmurs when her legs begin to quake. “Just a little bit longer. Udesiir.”

As soon as the water runs clear he sweeps her up in his arms, ignoring her weak protests as Echo dries her and Fives carries her back into their room and lays her down gently on the wide bed. Fives isn’t ashamed of the fact that when they found the Resolute’s bunks overflowing he exercised his officer’s privileges to secure a cabin with a bed big enough for more than one - he and Echo crammed into narrow bunks together on Kamino and aboard ship for years, but three is a bit much for the small sleeping nooks recessed into the walls of most of the ship’s private cabins. Moments like this make him grateful for that little bit of selfishness. He lays down beside Ahsoka while Echo makes sure that they all have boots and pants within reach of the bed, in case of emergency, before joining them. Usually Ahsoka sleeps on the outside, where she can roll away when their higher body temperatures overheat her in the night, but tonight she catches Echo’s wrist before he can take up his usual position and pulls him down on her other side instead.

He goes without protest, laying flat on his back so that she can use his chest as a pillow while Fives curls up against her back, slotting her smaller body in against his broad chest. “Sleep, cyar’ika,” he murmurs against her lekku. 

“We have your back,” Echo finishes for him.

Both men do exactly that, keeping their eyes open and their breathing steady until sleep pulls her under, and drags them quickly after.

\-------

All three of them sleep for hours, a luxury they were rarely afforded in their days living in war zones and on battlecruisers and take full advantage of whenever they can. Fives doesn’t wake up until he feels Ahsoka shudder against him, and even then it’s only to throw an arm over her waist and make a shushing sound. Must be a nightmare. All three of them are used to waking up in the middle of the night to soothe someone in the aftermath of a horrible dream. It seems to help her most when they stay still, projecting calm and comfort toward her as best they can - something that isn’t hard now that she’s back in their arms where she belongs.

Another shudder seizes her only moments later, followed by a pained sound that has Fives snapping abruptly to full consciousness. Does she have some hidden injury that they missed? It wouldn’t be the first time their jetiise have hidden one from them until it became too serious to handle on their own. It’s rare that she hides one from the two of them, though, at least these days.

“‘S wrong?” he slurs, noting her heavy breathing and the little shivers running down her spine between larger shudders. His calloused hand smooths down her side and belly, searching for overheated skin or swelling that might betray an injury, only to realize that her hips are rocking in unsteady little motions and the warmth dragging against his knuckles is the velvety skin of Echo’s cock. This is not at all what he expected to wake up to. His brain is still trying to catch up as all of his blood rushes south without his permission, his erection quickly hardening against the swell of Ahsoka’s ass.

Ahsoka’s voice isn’t as rough as earlier when she speaks, and it’s a different kind of strain that underlies her words. “Started without you. Sorry.”

“I’m not,” Echo says, almost teasing. Almost. Fives recognizes the desperate, frightened edge in his vod’s tone that he can still feel vibrating underneath his own skin. Neither of them were sure this would ever happen again, their hope diminishing every day that they could get a signal through to Rex and learn that scouting parties had come back empty handed. It almost feels like a dream. 

Except there’s nothing dreamlike about the warmth between her thighs when his hand dips lower, or the hitch of her breath when his thumb parts her folds and finds her clit. One of Echo’s fingers is already buried in her, sliding in and out in time with the increasingly desperate rocks of her hips, and Fives growls quietly in jealousy. “Kriff, so wet for us. Must be so tight around him, cyar’ika. Nobody’s touched you for a  _ month _ .” At least, he hopes that’s true. She would have told them if something happened, right?

“Fuck,” Ahsoka hisses between her teeth, bucking suddenly, forcefully between them. Fives can feel the moment her body clenches down hard around Echo’s finger, their quiet moans twining together as she rides out her orgasm.

Fives doesn’t let her bask in it long, chasing Echo’s hand away and taking its place before she has even stopped shivering. He manages to work two of his fingers in to the second knuckle, pausing when she whines sharply and buries her face in their thin pillow. At times like this her Togrutan physiology is a curse. Narrow hips and a narrower cunt, designed for cocks far smaller than theirs, make it hard for her to accept even two of his thick fingers. Penetration is off the table most of the time, yet tonight Fives can feel the desperation building between them. When her hips start working down on his fingers he takes it as silent permission, sliding them deeper and curling against the sensitive spot inside of her in hopes of distracting from whatever pain she might feel. If the way she moans is any sign, it’s working.

“More,” she whines. There’s no way he can get another finger in, not at this angle, not with her so tight around him.

“This what you want?” he asks, rocking his hips against her ass.

“ _ Yes _ \- now.” There is his commander shining through, and Fives snaps to obey her.

Echo draws Ahsoka’s upper body in tighter against his chest and urges her to tilt her hips back as Fives’ fingers slip free. After a few moments of shuffling Fives is in the right position, gripping himself with one hand and rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her slit. She pushes back impatiently, wiggling and rocking until he’s pressed up against her entrance. Thrusting into her takes some work. More stretching and perhaps another orgasm would have made it easier. Instead Fives has to push into her in gentle, shallow thrusts, a little deeper each time until he’s buried halfway into her. Their position and her body don’t allow for much more, and it doesn’t matter to him. It’s more than enough, intimate in a way that makes his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. He knows it hurts her just like he knows that she has never trusted anyone but the two of them with this no matter who or what else she’s experimented with.

Fives tries to distract from the discomfort by cupping one of her small breasts, rolling her taut nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger and then switching to the other. Before long he can feel Echo’s fingers teasing her clit again and the shiver that runs through her in response. Taking it as his signal to move, Fives rocks into her experimentally. When she moans in response he does it again, picking up a slow and gentle rhythm and managing to work himself slightly deeper in the process.

“Ner cyar’ika. Cuun cyare,” Echo is murmuring against her montrals, her forehead, her cheek. He rains kisses down on every inch of her beloved face, tracing features he was afraid he might never see again. 

Her own hands trace Echo’s body - every part of it, with no fear of his scars - before she reaches back with one hand to stroke Fives’ hip and thigh. “Ner kar’taylir darasuum,” she replies in their adopted tongue, tipping head face up to catch Echo in a kiss. When she pulls back, breathing heavily against his cheek, she switches back to Basic, whispering fractured endearments into his skin as they work her steadily toward orgasm.

She comes quietly, for once, clenching and spasming around Fives until he spills into her with a soft groan. A moment later Echo’s voice takes on a desperate edge and warmth coats Fives’ fingers where they rest against Ahsoka’s belly. Apparently rocking against Ahsoka’s hip and stomach was enough to get him off. Fives chuckles breathlessly against Ahsoka’s shoulder and reaches across her to cup the back of Echo’s head, scratching blunt nails through his vod’s hair until Echo goes lax under his touch. They lay in a sweaty, sticky heap for a long time, careless of how disgusting they’ll feel in the morning. None of them want to stop touching for long enough to clean up, not right now. Not when Fives’ breath is hitching with weeks of pent up tension that he’s having trouble letting go of, and Ahsoka’s cheek is wet against Echo’s neck.

Tomorrow they will have to face reality again. A reality where Ahsoka is still covered in bruises, where she has a long report to make to the Council about everything that has happened to her in the past month, where their galaxy is going to hell and there is so little they can do about it. But tonight they’re together, and safe, and it’s enough. It has to be. 

\--------

Ahsoka  _ hurts _ in a way that no amount of orgasms or body-warmth or hot showers will fix any time soon. On top of that, she has already submitted to the indignity of letting Kix jab her in the ass with a booster shot for everything she might have been exposed to during a month in a series of dingy Separatist jail cells. For once she sits patiently while Kix smears her cuts and burns with bacta, taking special care in wrapping the burns at her throat and wrists where the Force suppressing collar and cuffs shocked her every time she so much as thought about reaching for it (and sometimes when she didn’t, just for her captors’ amusement). 

“Did anyone…?” Kix glances over his shoulder at the two ARC Troopers that have designated themselves her guards and babysitters until they receive other orders. It’s cute, and sweet, but irritating. And  _ humiliating _ when Kix turns back to her and makes a subtle but very clear gesture. 

Her eyes narrow and her lekku twitch, yet she bites her tongue to keep from snapping. He’s just being thorough, and it’s not as if this is the first time someone has had to ask. Ahsoka knows exactly what can happen to young women in war zones - she’s seen the aftermath of cities looted and burned by Separatists or civil wars or even mongrel members of the GAR taking advantage of their positions. She’s heard the stories and held the hands of girls her own age and younger when she helped in the field hospitals. And the Zygerrians from years ago were not the first or last to spell out what they would like to do to her.

“No,” she says, refusing to look at Echo and Fives. She can feel their sudden, rapt attention in the Force anyway. “Nothing like that. They wanted what was in my head, not between my legs.” Her smile is strained. Kix returns it anyway.

“Then you’re good to go, Commander,” he says, clasping her should. “Come back in twelve hours to have the bandages changed and stay off of that ankle. You’re getting off easy, the General is on two days’ bedrest, so don’t make me order you to join him. No heavy lifting, no walking unless absolutely necessary, no, uh,  _ vigorous exercise _ . If I know my vode, they aren’t going to let you out of their sight until Rex comes after them with a pry bar, so put them to work fetching and carrying for you.” Kix turns to glare at his brothers while Ahsoka pulls her tunics back into place and slides off the table. “You two, remind her that medic outranks everybody every half hour until she gives up and actually follows orders, understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Fives and Echo reply with only a hint of mockery.

Ahsoka is in for a  _ long _ recovery with them acting as Kix’s guard dogs. On the upside, maybe she can convince them to do more making up for lost time, as long as it isn’t too... _ vigorous _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Mandoa translations:
> 
> Copaani gaan? = Need a hand?
> 
> Udesiir relax, take it easy
> 
> Ner = my, mine
> 
> Cuun = our, ours
> 
> cyare/cyar'ika = beloved/darling, sweetheart
> 
> kar'taylir darasuum = love


End file.
